


The Taste of Blood Remains

by starksparkr



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2018-11-08
Packaged: 2019-08-20 13:55:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16557020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starksparkr/pseuds/starksparkr
Summary: Logan had seemed a decent guy, always making May laugh. Peter hadn’t seen her this happy in such a long time, not since Ben had been killed in a shootout downtown. He was gentle and kind with her, listening patiently and supporting her in everything she did.





	The Taste of Blood Remains

_“Choke, try to wash you down with something strong_

_Try but the taste of blood remains_

_Cold, empty mattresses and falling stars_

_My, how they start to look the same_

_So keep in happiness_

_And torture me while I tell you, "Let's go in style"_

_A million hooks around_

_A million ways to die_

_Darling, it's cold outside_

_No, no more eyes to see the sun_

_Y_ _ou slide into bed while I get drunk_

_Slow conversations with a gun_

_Meaning more than I've ever said to anyone_

_Anyone_

_So keep in happiness_

_And torture me while I tell you, "Let's go in style" A million hooks around_

_A million ways to die_

_Darling, let's go inside_

_I_ _t'll be alright_

_But last night, you said you ended up in Palm Springs dancing on tables_

_Almost fought some bitch at the club_

_Got kicked out of your hotel and lost your shoes_

_Well, fuck what, am I supposed to be impressed? You're just another set of bones to lay to rest_

_I_ _guess it’s time to say goodnight, I hope you had a really good time_

_Good time_

_I’ll soon forget the color of your eyes and you’ll forget mine_

_So keep in happiness And torture me while I tell you, "Let's go in style" A million hooks around_

_A million ways to die_

_Let's go outside_

_It'll be alright_

_But last night, you said you ended up in Palm Springs dancing on tables.”_ –Pierce the Veil, _I’m Low on Gas But You Need a Jacket_

* * *

 

               Logan had seemed a decent guy, always making May laugh. Peter hadn’t seen her this happy in such a long time, not since Ben had been killed in a shootout downtown. He was gentle and kind with her, listening patiently and supporting her in everything she did; Logan was a bartender, trying to pay off his student loans after his previous marriage had broken down. He was handsome to boot; by all definitions, he was perfect. May had been seeing him for a few weeks now, having gone out to dinner and a few movies with him.

               Peter was upstairs in his room, putting the finishing touches on his English essay. His notes were sprawled all about the bed, and his copy of _Paradise Lost_ was filled with notes scribbled in the margins, significant passages bookmarked with sticky notes. The digital clock by his bedside displayed 1:35AM in large, blaring red numbers. _How long have I been doing this essay? It feels like forever,_ he thought to himself. He was five pages in, and yet, he was nowhere near close to finishing.

               “Hey, Pete,” Logan said nonchalantly, knocking on the door frame. Peter looked up from his laptop; Logan was half-naked, and his jeans were unbuttoned. “I was hoping to catch you alone. There’s something we need to establish.”

               “Logan, can this wait until tomorrow? I really need to finish this essay. I don’t want to be rude or anything, but this is really important.”

               “School is for pussies,” spat Logan. “Are you a pussy, or are you a man?” He closed the door and locked it behind him.

               “What?”

               “Thing is, I really like May. She’s pretty and she’s funny—but I’m tired of denying my true self, Peter. I know who I am now. I know what I want. I know who I want.” As he spoke, Logan pulled down his jeans—revealing his erect penis. The cold, icy fingers of fear and horror choked Peter and he leapt from the bed, lunging for the door, but Logan was faster somehow, and stronger. Logan backhanded him across the face, sending him sprawling across the floor. Peter cried out in pain, holding a hand to his face where he’d been hit, reeling from the force of the blow.

               “Don’t bother screaming for help, you little shit,” Logan snarled. “I slipped a little something in May’s coffee, so she’s sleeping like the dead.” He straddled Peter, his fingers reaching for his flannel PJ bottoms. Loud, piercing screaming and sobbing filled the room, although Peter didn’t remember beginning to scream.

               “ _May! May! Help—oh my god, please! Help_!” he shrieked. Logan slapped him again with so much force that his head jerked to the side, and pulled down his pants. Something hard and sharp prodded him between the legs; Peter struggled and fought and kicked, but Logan was too strong. He clapped a hand over Peter’s mouth; he stopped poking and prodding, and the pain hurt almost like fire, burning him to the core.

               “Oh, you like that, don’t you? Feeling a man inside you. This is what I’ve always wanted, kiddo, and I want it with you.” Peter was crying, his sobs muffled by Logan’s hand.

“Oh my god, ohhh… _fuck yes_.” Logan finally climbed off a sobbing Peter, buttoning his jeans. Peter curled up into a ball on his side, sobbing openly. It hurt. Everywhere. Everything hurt like hell. “Here’s how it’s going to be between us, Peter: You are my fucking bitch. You belong to me. I’ll spend my days with your aunt, but my nights will be with you. If you tell anyone about our mutual arrangement, I’ll fuck up May so bad that both of you will wish that you’d never been born.”

Peter heard his footsteps receding as he left his bedroom. He buried his face in his hands and wept uncontrollably.

 

It went on like this for weeks, and Peter was near his breaking point. He dreaded coming home; Ned knew something was wrong and had repeatedly asked what was going on, but Peter merely avoided his questions _. If you knew, you probably wouldn’t look at me the same way again._ Around May, Logan was the perfect boyfriend—but Peter still understood his subtle, nonverbal threats. He’d clench a knife at the table and stare, and other times his knuckles would go white.

“Dude, I know you don’t want to talk about it,” said Ned during lunch, “but please, whatever it is, you need to talk to someone. Please. I’m getting scared.”

“I can’t talk about it,” Peter responded, his voice cracking. “Please, Ned, just let it go. As your friend, I’m begging you to drop it.” His eyes burned of their own accord and he hastily wiped them with the sleeve of his sweatshirt.

“Peter…” Across the cafeteria, Flash and his group of friends were on their phones, laughing at some old video clip in which they chanted “Penis Parker! Penis Parker!” as they threw heaps of garbage at him.

“I’m fine.” Before Peter could say more, his phone went off. Tony Stark’s picture flashed across the screen. He cleared his throat before answering. “Hey, Mr. Stark!” he exclaimed brightly. “What’s up?”

“Hey, kiddo! I’m just letting you know that I’m picking you up after school,” Tony said. “I already got the okay from May.”

“Is this related to my… uh, internship?”

“You remember your suggestion you made last month about combining formulas to better integrate nanotech into the technology that we use every day? We’ve had a breakthrough, and I want you to see it for yourself.”

“That sounds great, Mr. Stark. I’ll definitely be there, and I’ll text you when school’s out.”

“Sounds good, Underoos. Bye, kiddo!”

 

“Seriously, you’re a genius,” Mr. Stark said animatedly. They were in the tech lab, where new models of Stark technology were developed and manufactured—or rather, where they were tested. If anything, the room looked like it came out of something in one of those futuristic movies where everything was either holographic or on a holographic screen. He was no stranger to the wonders of Stark technology; Tony had given him a hugely upgraded suit after proposing that he joined the Avengers. He’d declined the offer, of course, but Tony had let him keep the new suit.

“Combining formulas makes the tech more accessible to people with disabilities or all types,” he went on. “Seriously, I’m proud of you, Pete.” He raised his hand up—but that was all Peter saw, for his instinct override everything else. No longer was he in Stark Industries with his mentor, his idol—he was back home. Logan was beating him, screaming insults and other vulgarities into his face. And, more than anything, it was the pain. The stabbing pain as Logan prodded him with his— bile rose in his throat, and for a moment, he thought he was going to be sick. _I can’t go home—but I need to be there for May. I can’t go home—but I need to be there for May._

Peter backed himself into a wall, knocking over some equipment and sending it sprawling all over the floor, curling up into a ball and covering his head with his arms. His heart hammered in his chest, and no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t get enough oxygen into his lungs.

“No, no… don’t, please—don’t,” he screamed. “Stop, stop… _please_!” Tears poured down his cheeks faster than he could stop them,

“Hey, hey, Pete. Peter, hey. It’s me. It’s Tony. Nobody’s going to hurt you.” Peter heard, rather than saw, Tony kneel in front of him. He didn’t need to open his eyes to see Tony’s concern. His breaths came out as ragged sobs, though he didn’t remember starting to cry. “You’re safe, bud. You’re with me.” Slowly, hesitantly, he looked up at Tony from his still shaking hands, his face streaked with tears.

“Peter, what… what happened?” Tony asked gently. “I’ve seen your panic attacks, but… nothing like what just happened. What’s going on, kid? You’re scaring me.”

Peter chuckled humorlessly, shaking his head. Tears silently slid down his cheeks, and yet, somehow his voice was steady when he spoke. “May got a new boyfriend. She’s been seeing him for a few weeks now.”

“That’s… nice?”

“No, Mr. Stark. You… you don’t understand. For a while, I thought he was a good guy. I haven’t seen her this happy since Ben….” His voice caught on a sob. “One night, he…  he came into my room. Said he needed to talk to me about something.”

“What was it?” Tony’s voice was soft, soothing, as he rubbed circles into Peter’s back, quietly supporting him and giving him the courage to tell his story.

“I thought it was no big deal. I mean, sure, at first I didn’t know what to think of him—probably because he’s the first guy May’s brought home. He was half-naked; I thought that he’d maybe just gotten out of the shower. I mean, I didn’t think too much of it—but then he locked the door behind him. The way he looked at me… like I was a piece of meat. I just—I—” Peter couldn’t bring himself to finish his words, trailing off as he began to sob and hyperventilate. “He… he hit me. I tried to fight, Mr. Stark, I did. I was so scared—all I could think was _not again_ —but I couldn’t do anything as he pulled my pants down and…”

“Oh my god, _Peter_.” Tony pulled the sobbing teenager into his arms, holding him close and running his fingers through his hair. “Shhh, shhh. It’s okay to let it out,” he murmured. “What did you mean when you mentioned thinking _not again?"_

“I had this older friend once when I was a kid. I think I was about eight or so—he came over all the time to babysit; he was a senior in high school, needed to make some money, so he offered to babysit me for Ben and May. His name was Skip, and we became best friends. We played video games and stuff, but eventually, somewhere along the line, he grew tired of it. Started bringing these magazines that he wanted me to look at with him. He even showed me some videos on his laptop. Said he wanted to try out what they were doing. I said no, Mr. Stark. _I said no, but he wouldn’t listen._ If I tried fighting, he’d hit me. He never hit me hard enough to leave a mark because he knew Ben and May would ask questions, but I understood just fine. I-I couldn’t do _anything_ as he… as he— He knew I wanted to tell Ben and May. I found our new puppy on my bed with a broken neck.”

“Jesus Christ…”

               “May found out when she saw these fingermarks around my neck. I didn’t know what else to do, Mr. Stark. It was killing me on the inside. When I told her, she told Ben and I… I’ve never seen any of them so upset. They were both crying—and all I could think was: _This is your fault. You shouldn’t have told them, and now Skip is going to make you pay.”_

               “Where is this Skip now?”

               “In prison. I see Skip in him all the time, and I just—”

               “Hey, hey, hey. Shh, shh. Everything is going to be okay. I’m not going to let this new boyfriend, or anyone, hurt you ever again. I promise you, Peter.”

 

FIN.

              


End file.
